Chapter 4: Suspended (Nate POV)

The conference room was choking me, walls creeping in like they wanted to squash me flat. The security goons stood there, their voices just a dull hum I couldn’t latch onto. My eyes were glued to the laptop, screen glowing with that fake-ass chat log—words that looked like mine but weren’t. Hands shook like crazy as I tried to wrap my head around it. The texts, the timestamps—all rigged to paint me as some guilty bastard for shit I didn’t even get. Wanted to scream, yell it wasn’t me, but the words got stuck, clogging my throat. Someone built this trap, and I was snared.

Slammed the laptop shut—bang echoed hard in the dead quiet. Sucked in a breath, trying to chill, but it was a lost cause. Everything was hitting too fast, dragging me under, and I couldn’t claw my way up. Bald security dude snapped me outta my spiral.

“HR’s here,” he said, voice flat, no feeling behind it.

This woman marched in, owning the room soon as she stepped through. Older, hair yanked back in a tight bun, clipboard gripped like a weapon. Didn’t look at me straight—like I was a glitch to fix, not a person. No smile, no “it’s gonna be okay”—just a problem she had to mop up.

“Nathan Carter?” she asked, voice monotone, like she was reading lines off a cue card.

“Yeah,” I muttered, barely loud enough, panic clawing up my chest like it wanted out.

“Ellen, HR,” she said, flipping through her clipboard, eyes skimming pages without a pause. “We’ve got the evidence—server logs, payment records, now this chat history. You’re suspended, no pay, effective now.”

“What?” It burst outta me, too quick, as I shot up. Chair crashed back, loud and messy, but I didn’t give a damn. “You can’t—this ain’t me! I didn’t do this!” Wanted to grab her, shake some sense into her, but I was stuck, powerless, every word tightening the noose.

She didn’t blink, didn’t care. “Federal investigation’s underway for the breach. You’re off premises ‘til it’s done. No debate.”

“Federal?” Gut twisted hard at that. “This is nuts! Those logs are fake—someone planted ‘em!”

Ellen sighed, heavy and bored, like I was some punk spinning the same old yarn. “Investigation’ll sort it,” she said, flipping another page. “You’re out. Security’s got you.”

Mind was a mess. Federal? This wasn’t just ZenithTech shit anymore—it was way bigger. Shoved my laptop in my bag, hands trembling like hell. Didn’t feel real—none of it did. Guards closed in, their vibe heavy, suffocating. Looked out the glass wall, desperate for someone to step in.

Then I saw him. Liam. Standing right outside, stiff as a board, talking to somebody. Caught my eye, and his face went white, eyes popping like he couldn’t believe it. Needed him to do something—anything—to back me up. But he just shuffled forward, all hesitant, face scrunched with doubt.

“Nate,” he said, voice shaky and low. “I—”

“Save it,” I cut him off, sharp and pissed. Couldn’t stomach his weak-ass pity. “You think I did this?”

“No,” he said fast, but there was a hitch, a wobble that turned my stomach. “I mean, I don’t know what’s up, but I’ll try to help. I’ll talk to ‘em—”

“Try?” I spat it out, bitter as hell. “That’s all you got?”

He flinched, eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s a mess, Nate. I’ll figure it out, I just—”

“Forget it,” I snapped, shutting him down. Didn’t wanna hear more. That limp “I’ll try” hit harder than the suspension—like he wasn’t sure of me anymore, and that burned deep. Shoved past him, didn’t look back as the guards boxed me in, their silence heavy like shackles.

They marched me through the office, and the stares came again—quiet, cagey. Whispers were back, but now there was this thick vibe—fear, maybe. Kept my head down, face scorching with shame. Hated how naked I felt. Those glass walls made every step a damn spectacle, showing off every crack. Then I clocked her across the hall—Harper. Standing by her office door, arms crossed, face blank but cold, like she was calculating something. No smirk, no nothing—just this eerie calm that felt too planned. Gut screamed she was in this. She’d been there last night, right after that email. Couldn’t prove it, but I felt it.

Guards didn’t say shit as they hauled me to the elevator. Bag banged against my leg, the laptop’s weight dragging me down with everything else. Doors slid open, and I threw one last look back. Liam was still there, rooted, staring after me. Didn’t budge. Doors shut, and he was gone.

Downstairs, lobby was too bright—sun glaring off the shiny floors, making it all feel like a fever dream. Bald guy shoved a paper at me—some official crap I didn’t bother reading. “Don’t come back ‘til we say,” he said, voice empty, no give. Then they ditched me, leaving me standing there alone.

Doors swung shut, and I stumbled into the cold air. Hit me like a slap—street buzzing with cars, people rushing, but I was stuck, frozen. Suspended, no pay. Federal investigation. Everything I’d busted my ass for was crumbling, and I didn’t even know why. Pulled my coat tight, mind racing, trying to piece it together.

Then my phone buzzed. Yanked it out, hoping it was Liam with something real, something to grab onto. Blocked number, no name. Thumb hovered, gut tight, before I opened it.

“This isn’t just about you. Walk away.”

Froze solid, words sinking in slow, icing me up inside. Not just me? Who sent this? Heart pounded as I read it again—warning or threat, couldn’t tell, but it weighed a ton. Hands shook. Someone knew more, pulling strings I couldn’t see.